tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601Thu, 01 Jan 2015 20:27:32 +0000Darryl StephensAll things Darryl Stephens...http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)Blogger37125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-9141557646058687152Fri, 07 Jun 2013 20:56:00 +00002013-06-11T13:19:23.922-07:00FAGNOSTIC<span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I wasn’t raised religious. In fact, I only recall Jesus’ name being mentioned on those Saturday mornings when my stepfather would wake up in a bad mood to find dirty dishes in the sink. Those days also included lots of fuming and stomping and curse words and hurt feelings, so while the ‘Lord’s name’ may have been uttered, there was nothing religious about that particular ritual. My early childhood provided little to no context for the Holy Trinity or sin or the bible or anything Christian at all. That is not to say I didn’t have an educational and meaningful upbringing.</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>My mother had joined the Nation of Islam in the early 70s while attending Stanford University. Judging from how quickly she abandoned her head wraps to raise yours truly, I’ve always assumed she was more interested in the academic pursuit of Elijah Muhammad’s Black Nationalism than the Islamic religion. Even so, I grew up very familiar with phrases like, “Al hum du’ Allah” and “Asalaam Alaikum” and I never saw a piece of pork up close until I was away at college. Eating that slice of pepperoni pizza felt like more of a transgression than knocking back my first Zima (the even cheesier predecessor to Mike’s Hard Lemonade)­, which happened at the same party. I guess even without the fear of God’s wrath, I used to be sort of a goodie two-shoes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>In elementary school, I remember a group of my friends talking one Monday morning about going to church and how much fun they’d all had at Sunday school together. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>I’d obviously heard of church, but at that point, it was like rugby or long line fishing; an activity I didn’t understand and had no interest in learning about. However, the fact that I was missing out on socializing was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not cool</i>. I was a chatty child and prided myself on being in on all the jokes and up to date on all the shenanigans. So that night, I asked my mother if I could go to church with my friends the following Sunday. Incredulous, she scoffed, “You clearly don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” But I pleaded my case and told her it was important to me to see firsthand what it was all about. She eventually shrugged and said, “Fine. Knock yourself out.”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I can still remember the smell of that ecru glossy painted Sunday school room; it was tangy and stale and somehow homey all at once. I sat in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">class</i> with two of my buddies (I think the other two couldn’t make it that week) and within minutes, was bored out of my mind. As the polite, gap-toothed, Jheri-curled lady sat under florescent lights reading bible stories in what sounded like cartoon slow motion, I looked around to see if anyone else was having as much trouble picking up what she was putting down. Every single set of eyes was glazed over. The lesson played like a bizarre form of child torture. The language was not the least bit engaging and the stories didn’t make any sense.&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I knew right away that Sunday school was not for me. I actually felt tricked, bamboozled by my friends into sacrificing my Sunday morning for this hogwash. To add insult to injury, after class, we had to sit through a sermon in the actual chapel with the adults. My eyes and ears were bleeding with boredom. By the time I got back home, my mother’s “told ya so” smirk was all I needed to confirm that my spiritual journey, whatever it was to be, would not involve sitting in a room with a bunch of overdressed, shiny folks, having someone talk at me in old English. That church shit was for the birds. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>A few months later, some Jehovah’s Witnesses talked my mother into purchasing a “Children’s Book of Bible Stories.” I had just started getting into Edith Hamilton’s book on Greek mythology and I was far more intrigued by superhuman Zeus turning into a swan to seduce a woman than some dude named Abraham setting a bush on fire, but I read both books. It’s all mythology, right? Fables and morality plays… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fiction</i>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Cut to eight or nine years later. I’d had my official introduction to Zima and with it, a handful of clumsy encounters with guys in college. I knew I was gay before I went away to Berkeley and in truth, sought out the campus’ proximity to San Francisco on purpose. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Every day of that first year, I chipped away at the terror of admitting to myself that I would ultimately have to share this secret with everyone in my life. I had no real concept of sin because I already knew that particular book of mythology didn’t apply to my life. As long as I didn’t buy into it, I could not be beholden to its laws and punishments. I wasn’t worried for one second about burning in Hell for being attracted to men. No, I was scared to death that my mother and my brother wouldn’t love me anymore and that I would have to create an entirely new life without them. I was petrified at the prospect of losing my family and friends over something I could not control and did not choose. I knew gay was considered <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bad </i>by most people, but as far as I could ascertain, God and spirituality had nothing to do with it. Even then, I knew ignorance and shortsightedness were to blame for the unfortunate station of homosexuals in our society. To add to that stress, HIV and AIDS were still widely considered a warranted death sentence for men who dared to have (unsafe) sex with other men. The early 90s was a harrowing time to be coming into your sexuality.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>By my second year of college, I came out to my mother, who was surprised but ultimately supportive, and to my younger brother, who insisted he always knew (recalling the elaborate Janet Jackson dance routines I’d perform in our room) and then everything else just sort of fell into place. Extended family eventually caught wind. Most of my close friends had received the news even before my mother, and with the exception of maybe one or two, no one batted an eye. (My stepfather was fortunately already out of the picture. I’m not sure if I’d have come out at nineteen if he was still in the house.) I had built up this very elaborate, but in retrospect half-assed lie to hide my shocking secret, and when the shit hit the fan, most people were really not shocked at all. I mean, I had been in the show choir and dance production classes in my high school. Who was I kidding? My whole life had been a performance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Cut to about ten years later. I had graduated from the campus stage to star in a cable television series. Considered revolutionary for its depiction of black gay men, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Noah’s Arc</i> was cherished by many queer folks of color and, quite unexpectedly, resonated with straight black women as well. By that time, I was very aware of the church’s stand on homosexuality. Over the years, I had even been convinced that the black church was particularly unaccepting and backwards on gay issues, but again, none of that had anything to do with my life… <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">until it did</i>.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I started getting messages from a number of Noah fans from all over the country and eventually the world who had found strength and solace in the images of friendship, love and self-respect our little soapy sitcom promoted. I heard from elderly black men who were thrilled to<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">finally</i> see images in the media that reflected their relationships and experiences, as well as teenagers who found the show to be an escape from their stifling home lives and a hopeful glimpse of what the future could bring. I could never have anticipated the emotional impact the show would have on viewers… or the emotional impact their response would have on me. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I would regularly find myself at my computer with tears streaming down my face, stunned by the stories of people I’d never met, overwhelmed by how many struggled with simply being gay. And for a number of them, it wasn’t introspective, unwarranted paranoia, as it had largely been with me. Some of these people had been kicked out their parents’ homes and already lived on the streets. Some had been emotionally and physically abused repeatedly. Some had been bullied so brutally they’d considered taking their own lives. Nowadays, we hear about gay teen suicide all the time, but when <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Noah’s Arc</i> was airing in 2005 and 2006, it was still shocking to consider that it could ever get that bad. (Even I had been picked on for being ‘too soft’ in high school, but it never affected me enough that I would have considered suicide a viable option.) The most horrifying aspect of most of these stories was that the violence and humiliation these people were suffering had been justified by and was rooted primarily in Christianity. Like slavery and xenophobia and misogyny and every societal ill you can name, some bible verse had been twisted to serve as the excuse to rob another human being of happiness, self-respect and love. It made me sick. It made me angry. It made me view<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> religion as the enemy of love</i>. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>As the show’s popularity continued to rise, I began hearing from straight folks—mostly women, many of whom were struggling to reconcile their relationship with a gay child or family member. They shared their experience of toiling over how to go about loving this gay person when the bible clearly states that yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. These people were legitimately torn between their instinct to love, to be supportive, and an obligation to adhere to scripture they had been taught in church. I was shocked at how many people were wrestling with this, and shocked that they felt I was the person to whom they should reach out.&nbsp;<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>While the series was airing, I was far less of an activist. The cast wasn’t even officially allowed to discuss our sexuality in the press. I guess people reached out to me (and other cast members, as I understand) because I was someone with whom they could speak openly without worrying about it getting back to the people in their lives. Honestly, the deluge of messages from people either struggling with being gay or trying to fix a gay person is what eventually lead me to publicly come out as a gay man. There were too many people starving for affirmation, with nowhere else to turn. I had to share my own story to provide an alternative to the all-too-prevalent black queer narrative of suffering and ostracism. Not all of us were sinners born into so-called Christian, hate-mongering churches of rejection and repentance. Some of us were just living our lives.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>As soon as I started talking about my experience publicly, I had to learn to bite my tongue. It quickly dawned on me that my ‘demographic’ was by-and-large, church-going black folks. Some of them were straight black women. Others were queer folks who had somehow managed to clear the many hurdles toward self-acceptance placed before them (shaped suspiciously like church pews) and were able to love, live, and worship their God in peace. But many were same gender-loving men and women still at odds with their human urges and their pastor’s dogma. Self-loathing is rampant in gay communities and especially, it seemed to me, in the churchy ones.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>My eyes would roll all the way around the back of my head every time a queer black person would quote a bible verse or thank Jesus for their ‘blessings.’ Some variation on, “That book is not serving you, honey. Pick another,” was always cued and ready to go… but I wouldn’t say a word. Of course, it would have been foolish to think someone would choose my idea of free-thinking over their God. I am just another man, raised under different circumstances with different ideas about where we all go at The End. I may not have been speaking my mind, but I certainly had my opinions about people whose views were dictated by what they’d managed to pick up from the pulpit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Every time someone responded to a discussion topic with a bible quote or mentioned wanting to shut down a Planned Parenthood or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">praying the gay away </i>or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">loving the sinner, not the sin, </i>I would just see brainwashed sheep… inane, illogical, obstinate sheep. If your God told you that you had the power to make decisions for someone else’s life, what’s to stop me from making up my own god to grant me the power to tell you to fuck off? I’ll write a book of fables too, if that’s all it takes.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I’ve never called myself an atheist. My issues are with the church and oppressive interpretations of the bible, not with anyone claiming a higher power. I’m personally more comfortable with the term agnostic, because although I don’t believe in any ‘man upstairs,’ I’ve always considered my belief system, my code of ethics to be grounded in spirituality and love. I believe what most call God is simply our universal instinct to love and be empathetic. But the Holy Bible? The Virgin Mary? Leviticus? Child, please.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>I knew too much. I was too smart. One couldn’t possibly understand the historical context of African slaves being “given Christianity” in exchange for their freedom, in exchange for their very lives, and actually believe they—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WE</i> hadn’t been hoodwinked. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Karl Marx said, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>In other words, they told you that you were born LESS THAN, degraded you, demoralized you, dehumanized you, and then they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">gave</i>you Jesus and a book of rules to keep you in line, to keep you from uprising and taking back your dignity and your humanity… and you bought that shit? They didn’t even bother championing a character that at the very least LOOKED LIKE YOU to feed you the lies. In every painting and stained glass window, Jesus is depicted with long, flowing, flaxen hair and pale skin, despite textual references to him having “hair like lamb’s wool” and skin of “bronze.” Most black girls in pop music today are breaking their backs to look more like that version of Jesus than anybody born to African ancestors… but I digress. This isn’t about Beyonce or Nicki Minaj. This is about my mounting list of grievances with religion and my constant struggle to keep my mouth shut so as not to piss anybody off. Yes, I know… too late. (I bet most of you are more pissed that I called out 'Beysus' and her blond hair extensions.)</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>A few months ago, the topic of the black church came up with my good friend LaDasha. I can’t be sure, but I was probably expressing outrage over the photos of that black congregation holding up bags of Chick-Fil-A in solidarity with the anti-gay-funding fried chicken chain. That photo was wrong on so many levels, my head is still spinning. Anyway, LaDasha explained that she grew up in her grandmother’s black church and that their congregation would never have pulled a stunt like that. They were too busy feeding and clothing the homeless, shuttling kids and elderly members to places they needed to be, and going about the business of being what I had heard described as ‘good Christians.’ She explained to me that her grandmother’s tiny church never turned a profit like the mega-churches you see headed by the likes of closet-case and alleged sex-offender Bishop Eddie Long. Their church was in place to help and serve the community in the name of The Lord. She wasn’t defensive or boastful when she explained it, either. It was just what they did. I was shocked. I had never heard of such a church. But why would I have? It’s not like I was out looking to find one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>The conversation stumped me. For years, I had been seething with all these ideas about how useless and archaic and backwards the church was, and then someone very close to me—someone who is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bible-thumping</i> at all—explained that she was raised in a church that did nothing but help people in need. Isn’t that what church is supposed to be about? I know my enlightened, evolved, Easter Sunday Mass-skipping family wasn’t driving people around and spending their weekends feeding the needy. Had I been a little too hasty in my condemnation of Christianity? Were there actually people taking all the supposed teachings of Jesus Christ and applying them to something beyond judging and condemning others? Was there ultimately some useful information to be gleaned from that ancient book of mythology?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Well… a few weeks ago I came across another book. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>Chris Stedman’s autobiographical “<a href="http://faitheistbook.com/">Faitheist</a>” tells the story of a gay adolescent searching for acceptance, longing to belong, who winds up finding his first real community in church. He spent most of his teenage years turning his bible-induced shame inward, hiding from his truth while attempting to live up to the image of a true Christian. As he continued to come to grips with his sexuality, he studied theology in college and eventually came to understand, with a great deal of soul searching, that God did not exist. Like me, however, he had some difficultly fully embracing the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">atheist </i>identity. But his reticence wasn’t based in fear of alienating a black fan base. Chris came to find many atheists just as judgmental and short-sighted—if not more so—as their right-wing conservative Christian counterparts. If I had publicly declared myself an atheist, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">come out</i>about my anti-church stance, I might have been grouped in with those same elitist ‘intellectuals’… and I would have deserved it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>There is a humility and generosity to Chris’ approach to this discussion that I have yet to master. He struggled with claiming his place at times, but eventually found purpose in acting as a bridge between people of all walks of faith, including atheists and agnostics. His story has inspired me to be less judgmental of people of faith, of church-goers, God-fearers, and of anyone particularly attached to any book of mythology. Not all Christians are praying to keep me and my boyfriend from getting married or looking to bomb Planned Parenthoods to keep my cousins from getting affordable health care. There are whack jobs in all walks of life. Some of them are Christian, some of them are Muslim, and some are Wiccan or Buddhist or atheist or agnostic and so on. What we believe should not determine who we are and what we represent to the world around us. The kindness one exhibits, the empathy one feels, the integrity with which one lives their life… these are the qualities that we should be concerned about, not where he or she spends their Sunday mornings.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span>So I’m still working on this. I’m a grown ass man and while I do find myself more set in my ways these days, I think it’s important to continue bettering myself when I can. I still catch myself squirming when I read an article about a Catholic pro-life football player turning down an invitation to the White House because President Obama supports a woman’s right to choose. I still find it hard not to blame the church when I hear about a mother losing her son to drugs because she encouraged him to pray his gay away rather than just loving him unconditionally. We all have a lot to learn, but the only way to learn is to be open to communication. NO ONE HAS ALL THE ANSWERS. And just because we’re reading different books doesn’t mean our stories won’t overlap at times and that we can’t find strength and solace in our similarities.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;Baskerville Old Face&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Aharoni; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Adobe Song Std L&quot;;"><o:p>You can learn more about Chris Stedman's book at <a href="http://faitheistbook.com/">faitheistbook.com</a></o:p></span></div>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2013/06/fagnostic.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-7632303791391805397Wed, 31 Oct 2012 21:31:00 +00002012-10-31T14:31:48.547-07:00Right Outside...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVuHcMK3dSo/UJGYJnywvTI/AAAAAAAAAJM/ND1suaEJlPg/s1600/Envious%2BJPG%2B101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="324" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZVuHcMK3dSo/UJGYJnywvTI/AAAAAAAAAJM/ND1suaEJlPg/s400/Envious%2BJPG%2B101.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Sometimes, you aren't quite ready for the relationship to end. So what do you do? You wait. Outside... <iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F65564926&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/10/right-outside.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-4498718661499641065Tue, 02 Oct 2012 06:23:00 +00002012-10-01T23:28:45.011-07:00SOLANGE IS BACK!Check out the visual for the new Solange single "Losing You." The video was shot in Cape Town, South Africa by director Melina Matsoukas. I love the whole vibe of this. Fashion forward, vibrantly colorful, and completely beyond anything we're seeing in pop music right now. UGH! She is so fierce, I almost can't stand it...<br /><br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Hy9W_mrY_Vk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/10/solange-is-back.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2747590140223345968Fri, 28 Sep 2012 20:34:00 +00002012-09-28T13:45:01.459-07:00Bandwagons...I admit to being late on the Azealia Banks bandwagon. I was confused about that other Azalea happening at the same time and to be honest, a little exhausted with the influx of girl rappers after Nicki Minaj became ubiquitous. But since that moment has passed and some of the pink dust has cleared, I've been able to wrap my head around Ms. Banks. And I like her!<br /><br />I am especially digging her <a href="http://pitchfork.com/news/47121-azealia-banks-shares-fantasea-mixtape/">Fantasea mixtape</a>. It feels like a modern twist on the ball culture of my gay youth... Mind you, I was in college when NYC's ball culture hit big, but its impact did reach the black and brown gay bars of Oakland and San Francisco. This remix to Azealia's song 'Fierce' made the Paris In Burning influence even easier to spot...<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JAGYzcuaiOY" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />Did you catch that black lady use the word "kiki" in the late 80s? Fire Island needs to calm down about it, already.<br /><br />Anyway, back to Azealia. The underground vibe of the mixtape really speaks to my inner ball queen. (I'm far too old and conservative in my fashion to be caught up in that scene now, but on the inside, deep inside, I'm sashaying all the time.) Her laid back, smoky vocals make the imaginary pony tail on the back of my head bounce. Especially with this video for 'Luxury'...<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/3GP4SJUVS-s" width="560"></iframe>;<br /><br />She reminds me a little of my friend Dede, who goes by Countre Black. Dede has been singing more than rapping lately, but she does both fiercely... Come to think of it, let's close with some Countre Black... That way I can say I was ahead of the curve (as opposed to late on the bandwagon) when she hits big next year. <br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Yu6y-37ddCw" width="560"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/09/bandwagons.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2497204776089544242Sun, 16 Sep 2012 18:24:00 +00002012-09-18T15:22:26.106-07:00PyramidsWith <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/BSLADETV?feature=watch">B. Slade</a> half way through his brilliant month-long residency at Witzend in Venice, California and Frank Ocean SLAYING the season premiere of Saturday Night Live, I feel like we're in the midst of a queer black renaissance. Doug Spearman is making a <a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/HotGuysWithGuns">gay action movie</a>. Jonte is schooling America's Next Top Model. There's a drag queen giraffe on that new gay NBC show. Even me and my queer black behind will be terrorizing your TV this fall. We are EVERYWHERE...<br /><br />What do you guys think of the visuals for Frank's Pyramids? I was secretly hoping the first half of the song would have remained intact because I love the transition from ghetto-funk to sexy-electro... But I think this video is AMAZING.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/bFGlhg0M_YY" width="560"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/09/pyramids.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2593290154259803070Wed, 25 Jul 2012 20:43:00 +00002012-07-25T14:23:57.732-07:00History Should Teach Us SomethingWith the possibility of a generation free of HIV infection being discussed at the <a href="http://blackaids.org/2011-news/1298-the-end-of-aids-predicted-if">AIDS 2012 International Conference in DC</a> and the FDA approving <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/health/article/Truvada-is-part-of-larger-HIV-discussion-3732345.php">Truvada</a> as a viable pre-exposure prophyliaxis in helping to prevent new infections, it seems we could be on the brink of an end to this <a href="http://blackaids.org/2011-news/1291-rising-infection-rates-stigma-and-discrimination-addressed-at-aids-2012-pre-conference-on-men-having-sex-with-men-and-transgender-people">epidemic</a>. I’ll believe that when I see it.<br /><br />I’ve heard concern by some that an HIV ‘vaccine’ will only encourage people to revert to engaging in risky behavior, but it seems to me that people who arm themselves with a vaccine before having unprotected sex are taking the risk into consideration and in effect, protecting themselves. If condoms aren’t 100% effective, does taking a condom with you on a date mean you plan on engaging in risky behavior? I’m not a health care expert and I talk about shit I don’t completely understand all the time... But with condom-free porn being all the rage, I think it’s safe to say that unprotected sex is already happening and a vaccine will be more effective in preventing new infections than unearthing old sexual stigmas.<br /><br /><i>Sexual stigmatization.</i><br /><br />Many young people, kids who grew up with <i>Will &amp; Grace, Queer As Folk, L Word</i> and <i>Noah’s Arc</i>, probably have no idea of the stigmatization gay men suffered when the HIV/AIDS epidemic hit. Sure, bigots still use profits from selling fried chicken to keep us from getting married, but being gay is much more acceptable today than it was thirty years ago. Hell, with Anderson Cooper and Frank Ocean in the news, being gay is cooler today than it was a month ago. We didn’t always have it so good.<br /><br />I was around when gay men started getting sick in the 80s. I didn’t quite understand the details of the epidemic as a child, but the reality–that entire communities of gay men were being wiped out by a hideous disease with no cure in sight–was impossible to ignore. Having moved to the Bay Area for college in the 90s, when ACT UP’s “SILENCE = DEATH” campaign was ubiquitous, I always believed that I had just missed the worst of it. The entire gay community had already galvanized and organized to fight AIDS, but by then, people knew how the disease was transmitted and the focus had already shifted from panic and death-sentences to prevention, education and early detection. But that didn’t change the fact that AIDS was inescapable if you were a man who slept with men.<br /><br />Yes, I saw the facial wasting when I snuck away from Berkeley’s campus to visit San Francisco. There was a bar that was all giant windows on the corner of Castro and Market Streets that I still don’t know the name of because everyone I knew referred to it as ‘The Glass Coffin.’ Older men, the ones who had assumedly gotten sick but hadn’t died (yet) were known to congregate there. To this day, I have never set foot in that bar. It seems morbid now, but the truth at the time was that one slip-up with the wrong person could get you sick and getting sick could mean an ugly, painful death. Being gay was still very dangerous.<br /><br />I was a kid. I didn’t know anything about what these men had been through. I had been a child in the late 70s and early 80s when men first started getting infected. I didn’t have any friends whose faces became unrecognizable from emaciation and purple KS lesions. I knew to get tested every six months and I knew that blood and semen were to be avoided at all costs. I knew that condoms were nonnegotiable; if sex was happening, only latex would keep my body safe from his. I lived through being young and gay in the Castro in the 90s because somebody had dedicated their life to finding out and then teaching me how to protect myself. Fortunately or unfortunately, I didn’t know any other way. By the time sex with anybody was even on my radar, protecting myself from HIV was my first concern. By some miracle, my generation was spared the unfathomable loss that the one before me suffered.<br /><br />If a vaccine is indeed about to help eradicate this disease, I think it’s more important than ever to learn what happened to get us here. Because much of my gay identity was forged in The Castro, I still feel very connected to that city and its community. Maybe that’s why I was so moved by these two documentaries...<br /><br /><i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0455953/">Gay Sex In The 70s</a></i> depicts the gay sexual revolution that started in the late 60s and lasted through the early 80s. I watched the film knowing full well where these men were headed and what was going to happen to them. The sexual freedom of a pre-AIDS New York is hard to even imagine, but this film does a beautiful job of laying it all out without stigmatizing the men or their experience. I spent a good deal of the film wondering how these men survived to tell their stories, so thankful that they had.<br /><br />Then I watched the film <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1787837/">We Were Here</a></i>, which shows men and women who lived in the Castro when the AIDS crisis hit. It is heartbreakingly beautiful to see how gay men and women put aside their differences and bonded together to feed one another, care for one another and just love one another. Seeing lesbians and straight women put their entire lives on hold to take care of gay men who were dying of a disease that at the time WAS NOT AFFECTING WOMEN is incredibly powerful. Gay boys, next time you have something rude to say about a lesbian, consider that thirty years ago, it probably would have been a lesbian wiping your ass and feeding you applesauce.<br /><br />History should teach us something. The lessons of previous generations can always be debated, but the love and support these men and women found for one another in a time of crisis should inform how we aspire to treat one another now. I encourage you to watch the films and learn something about yourself.<br /><br />Both documentaries are streaming on Netflix.&nbsp; If you have films to add to these two, please share them below.http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/07/history-should-teach-us-something.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-3797271520013867567Thu, 12 Jul 2012 16:05:00 +00002012-07-12T09:07:14.376-07:00APOSTASYThis demo for Apostasy was going to be on the album I decided not to release two years ago. I personally know far too many brilliant musicians to even pretend I have any interest in trying to make a living singing. I’m not even a singer! I just make music because sometimes there’s a song in me that I have to get out.<br /><br />Something about Frank Ocean’s ‘Bad Religion’ had me thinking about this song. Religion can be like an abusive relationship and sometimes you just have to let go. Get out. Get free. <iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F52616939&amp;show_artwork=true" width="100%"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/07/apostasy.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-1897052193012721349Wed, 11 Jul 2012 18:26:00 +00002012-07-11T11:26:35.568-07:00On Tha Grind: Episode 1<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NzDnKb4O3dY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/07/on-tha-grind-episode-1.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-970683089312585981Fri, 29 Jun 2012 06:01:00 +00002012-06-28T23:04:58.519-07:00SuckerPunchedWhile all the songs on the SugarTank EP reflect some bitter aspect of my personal experience–which is ironic since the music is credited to a fictional character in my novel–this song is particularly personal. I had just gone through a breakup that made no sense to me at the time and I was wandering around through life like someone had knocked me in the back of the head. This version of the track is a little more visceral and even a little frantic in the way it pummels along. It’s closer to how I was feeling at the time... The vocals are obviously not tuned and the track is not mastered or mixed. This is just me sitting in my room with GarageBand on a Thursday night. You can download it for free. <iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F51228176&show_artwork=true"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/06/while-all-songs-on-sugartank-ep-reflect.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2344576616004291490Sun, 29 Apr 2012 03:58:00 +00002012-04-28T21:01:53.888-07:00Empowering Us AllOn my way to the gym this morning, Larry (creator/director of DTLA The Series) called to tell me he had shown one of my scenes to a close friend of his. Without even having seen the rest of the series, his friend cried, apparently moved by the honesty of the performances. The scene, which was particularly pivotal to my character’s arc, was also extremely personal to me. While we were shooting it, I really felt like I was sharing a moment from my own life. Hearing that his friend was moved to tears by this particular scene was extremely touching... and affirming. I walked into the gym thinking, ‘See? I AM a good actor!’ (Yes, we really are bottomless pits of insecurity and we need constant reassurance.)<br /><br />Twenty minutes later, a tall man walked up to me while I was in between sets on the fly machine. I plucked out my earbuds and smiled, assuming from his kind eyes that he was a fan. Byron apologized for bothering me and proceeded to tell me that he was a cop (one of LA’s Finest) and that he and his husband absolutely loved <i>Noah’s Arc</i>. He said that his husband ‘looked up to’ my character in particular, which lead me to believe that he was probably the gentler of the two. Then Byron told me that three years ago, his husband died in a car accident, much like the one at the end of the second season... which knocked the wind right out of me. I wasn’t prepared for that twist at all. He kept talking and found myself sitting there on the fly machine, struggling not to burst into tears. (Anybody who knows me knows that I have a hard time holding it together whenever the conversation turns to children suffering, loved ones dying or anyone believing they don’t deserve to love and be loved.) He could see I was upset and again apologized... I inhaled and did everything in my power not to cry. Then Byron told me that losing his husband and being so moved by the characters on <i>Noah’s Arc</i> had emboldened him to finally come out to his police department. After years of silence, he has managed to integrate his life in ways he had never imagined possible. He thanked me for my work and for being 'so good' and I shook his hand, wanting more than anything to jump up and hug him (he was very tall), but we were in the middle of the gym and I was already about to lose my shit. Then he walked away and continued with his workout.<br /><br />I worked out for about five more minutes but knew I needed to just get into my car and cry a little so I left without finishing...<br /><br />I’m not sharing this to brag or to reveal that I'm a big softy. I’m not here to remind you how profoundly life-changing that little cable series was for that tiny demographic. I’m sharing this to remind you of how incredibly powerful EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU can be by living your lives honestly. There are so many people who are still uncomfortable with themselves--either because they’re gay or they’re Muslim or they’re overweight or they’re differently-abled or ethnic or ill or whatever... The example that you can set with a little self-respect and respect for those around you is more profound than you could ever imagine.<br /><br />You’re thinking, “No Darryl, you’re playing characters on television, so of course people can see you. Nothing <i>I do</i> would ever make any difference.” But that’s not true. You have no idea who is watching and learning from you. YES, YOU! There could be a little girl on your block who feels empowered to respect herself and <i>not do herself harm</i> because she sees you and your girlfriend walking side by side down the street. There could be a staunch, church-going woman at your job who overhears you talking about your love for a cable series about four black gay guys who ends up watching the show and calling and reconnecting with her estranged gay son.<br /><br />YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW POWERFUL YOU ARE. So just keep living honestly. Keep living with integrity and compassion and respect. You are making a difference.<br /><br />&nbsp;Thank you for reading.http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/04/empowering-us-all.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2965693034010180251Wed, 18 Apr 2012 21:00:00 +00002012-04-18T17:30:31.652-07:00Is it worth it now?I was recently informed that "Thickness" had reached its 'free downloads' limit, so I decided to launch the next single. There's a lot of new music to share, but before I release anything new, I'd like to get it all professionally mixed and mastered. So here's a slightly tweaked version of what we might as well call the <i>second single</i> from last year's SugarTank EP. Always intended as a laid back tune for the punk bar, it also works as a cute F-U to the trifling man in your life. Enjoy!<br /><br />And to get the dirt on SugarTank, check out my novel <a href="http://www.lulu.com/shop/darryl-stephens/shortcomings/paperback/product-16795812.html">SHORTCOMINGS...</a><br /><br /><iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="http://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F43580840&show_artwork=true"></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/04/is-it-worth-it-now.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-1083165845168936974Mon, 16 Apr 2012 17:21:00 +00002012-04-16T10:21:51.128-07:00DTLADTLA: Downtown Los Angeles.<br />Also, the name of my new show. I play Lenny. Lawyer. Boyfriend. Control-freak.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzgfzeLusms/T4xSkMhZcNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/yxCyE7g9YPI/s1600/tumblr_m2e3k0LBvc1robw5zo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="267" width="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mzgfzeLusms/T4xSkMhZcNI/AAAAAAAAAJA/yxCyE7g9YPI/s400/tumblr_m2e3k0LBvc1robw5zo1_1280.jpg" /></a></div><br />We've shot six episodes (which may become eight) and we are currently in the midst of post-production and reshoots. Yesterday, we had our big season one photo shoot. It was so exciting to have everyone there together, from Tiffany "I Love New York" Pollard to Danny "Real World" Roberts to Luenell to Matthew Stephen Herrick. (We were missing B. Scott, Leslie Jordon and a few other guest stars, but they'll be stealing the show soon enough.) <br /><br />To stay in the know on DTLA, follow <a href="https://twitter.com/dtlatheseries">@DTLATheSeries</a> on twitter, "Like" our <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dtlatheserieshttp://">Facebook page</a> and check out our tumblr page, <a href="http://dtlatheseries.tumblr.com/">dtlatheseries.tumblr.com <br /></a><br /><br />The show launches in Canada on OutTV (as well as some European networks) in July and once things are final with our domestic distributor, US audiences will get to see the show this fall. <br /><br />I'm excited for you all to see what I've been WORKING MY ASS OFF doing for the last few months. As my friend Wilson says, "This show is many things. Many things."http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2012/04/dtla.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-7258632093571418059Wed, 09 Nov 2011 17:25:00 +00002011-11-09T09:35:35.913-08:00THICKNESS LYRICSSomeone asked me to post the lyrics to <a href="http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/10/thiiiiiiiiiiick.html">THICKNESS</a>, so here you go. You may be surprised to learn that 'the thickness' isn't necessarily referring to what you think it is... or is it?<br /><br />THICKNESS<br /><br />Masochistic reminiscing<br />My ears ring with things you said<br />Lips fixed to revisit kissing<br />Just need someone to knock you out my head<br />Bind my senses to the bedpost<br />Gag me with the taste of you<br />Run for days and still be too close<br />Drug I stay addicted to<br /><br />But you would never fall apart for me<br />So I don’t know why letting go’s so hard for me<br /><br />Blame it on the thickness<br />That kept me ‘round <br />Cuz you fucked me up and spit me out<br />Stuck in love and sick of it<br />Let you get me down <br />Need to get you out my head somehow<br /><br />Drowning in your tea cup ocean<br />Deafening silence, loud and shrill<br />A fool to entertain the notion<br />Hard pressing you against my will<br />Agonizing revelation <br />All is coming clear to me<br />Through your sweet manipulation<br />Love I swallow bitterly<br /><br />How the hell did I get be so dense*<br />That loving you makes any fucking sense?<br /><br />Could it really be the thickness...<br />I'm gettin' so sick of this...<br /><br /><br />* thick = dense = stupidhttp://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/11/thickness-lyrics.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-5562614070111385041Thu, 13 Oct 2011 19:40:00 +00002011-10-13T12:43:52.810-07:00THIIIIIIIIIIICK!!!The SUGARTANK EP is on iTunes today. For those of you who don't know, SugarTank is the musical alter-ego of Jamie, one of the main characters in my novel, SHORTCOMINGS. I produced this little collection of songs on my own (you should know, it was all put together on my MacBookPro, so it's got a homemade vibe... all ME) as a companion piece to the book. People have been asking me about new music and while I'm working on other projects, I thought this was a nice way to appease the hardcore "Angels" and share some original music that ties in with the story...<br /><br />As a thank you to all of you who have been so patient and eager to hear what I've been doing, I'm giving away the song THICKNESS.<br /><br /><object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F25468980"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F25468980" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens/thickness">Thickness</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens">DarrylStephens</a></span> <br /><br />Simply click on the 'down' arrow on the right and the song will download for free.<br /><br />And check out the rest of the EP on <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/music-inspired-by-darryl-stephens/id472867637">iTunes</a>. Thanks babies!http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/10/thiiiiiiiiiiick.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-1200887507235696612Sat, 17 Sep 2011 17:36:00 +00002011-09-17T10:37:00.083-07:00eBook Conversion for ShortcomingsI've been asked this a few times and I just wanted to make a note of it somewhere so I could remember this answer...<br /><br />If you need to convert the PDF of <i>Shortcomings<i></i></i> to a Nook-friendly file format, download Calibre for free <a href="http://calibre-ebook.com/download">here.</a>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/09/ebook-conversion-fo-shortcomings.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-3871256609580279351Wed, 14 Sep 2011 21:31:00 +00002011-09-14T14:32:26.827-07:00B.Slade's STARTB.Slade's new video is kind of amazing, isn't it?&nbsp; The power of the TRUTH...<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qauXdIelusM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/09/bslades-start.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-1056496722866093051Fri, 12 Aug 2011 18:54:00 +00002011-08-12T11:59:13.551-07:00Envious Moon LyricsThe lyrics were posted on The Darryl Stephens <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=454992524817&set=a.437592259817.219185.74132259817&type=1&theater">facebook</a> page around the time the song was released... but here they are for anyone who missed them. Glad you guys are liking the remix. Thank you!<br /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6TWqC1koto/TkV2ev_otII/AAAAAAAAAHY/wiLZ9QHpPLY/s1600/149784_454992524817_74132259817_5653653_7962154_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="309" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6TWqC1koto/TkV2ev_otII/AAAAAAAAAHY/wiLZ9QHpPLY/s400/149784_454992524817_74132259817_5653653_7962154_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />By the way, click on the DOWN arrow on the link to the remix (far right) to download...<br />http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/08/envious-moon-lyrics.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-7535735319147898457Fri, 12 Aug 2011 01:06:00 +00002011-08-11T18:06:47.134-07:00ENVIOUS MOON REMIXThe song was remixed for the video release party in March.&nbsp; Logan Alexander and MDoc Williams got together about a week before the party and cranked this out. For some reason, with all the commotion around the party, we never got around to mastering the track, so we never released it.&nbsp; As it turns out, the track ended up on a mix CD that my friend Camilo got a hold of and he keeps telling me how he's been playing the track non-stop.&nbsp; So... I decided I'd share it with you guys too.<br /><br />Enjoy...<object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F20938986"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F20938986" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens/01-envious-moon-indasoul-remix">01 Envious Moon (Indasoul Remix Produced by Marc 'MDoc' Williams and Logan Alexander)</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens">DarrylStephens</a></span> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/08/envious-moon-remix.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-2608685927887072476Mon, 08 Aug 2011 19:35:00 +00002011-08-08T12:35:08.164-07:00Andrew for the Second Edition...?As some of you know, I'm about to release SHORTCOMINGS for wide distribution via amazon.com and book stores. I've been re-reading the book and getting feedback from a few people who have read the book in its previous incarnations. I'm considering replacing <a href="http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/04/andrew.html">Andrew's back story</a>... It would be PART FOUR and we would pick up with Danny and Colin in PART FIVE. I love the story and people have responded really well to it, but I'm not sure if, in the context of the rest of the book, it just comes off as distracting. Andrew is a supporting character and while his back story does give some insight into how he ended up at Androfiles, I'm not sure if it would come off as superfluous. &nbsp; <br /><br />Obviously, this is something I have to decide on my own. If I had a proper editor, I would consult them. But I'm just wondering if you guys have any thoughts on the subject...&nbsp; Chime in. http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/08/andrew-for-second-edition.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-692825634588476014Fri, 24 Jun 2011 01:46:00 +00002011-06-23T18:46:25.341-07:00SURPRISE!<object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F17743869"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="http://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F17743869" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens/surprise-demo">Surprise (Demo)</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/darrylstephens">DarrylStephens</a></span>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/06/surprise.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-5660137953020987436Thu, 26 May 2011 19:04:00 +00002011-05-26T12:04:41.775-07:00SHORTCOMINGS on FacebookAt the advice of my friend Fabrice Tasendo, I've started a Facebook page for <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shortcomings/204924892878754">SHORTCOMINGS</a> to help spread the word. The first thing I'm planning a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/TheDarrylStephens?feature=mhee">YouTube</a> video answering YOUR questions about the book that you post on the FB wall. So pop over, find the "Like" button, come up with an interesting question and tell your friends! And thank you, as always, for the support. ;)http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/05/shortcomings-on-facebook.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-4527620317991334684Thu, 19 May 2011 03:13:00 +00002011-05-18T20:13:46.542-07:00New YouTube ChannelYou can find the Envious Moon Video, the It Gets Better clip and various reels at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/TheDarrylStephens?feature=mhee">TheDarrylStephens channel on YouTube</a>.<br /><br />Soon, I will be responding to your questions about SHORTCOMINGS and giving you the inside scoop on the play I'm doing in LA next month called "The Interlopers."<br /><br />Stay tuned...http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/05/new-youtube-channel.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-8629160518605480989Mon, 02 May 2011 21:57:00 +00002011-05-02T14:57:06.496-07:00SHORTCOMINGS is Number One in Gay & Lesbian Book Sales this week at lulu.com!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lltuwUFWmtc/Tb8oeytpe0I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/9iE7C0l15JY/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-02+at+2.43.46+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lltuwUFWmtc/Tb8oeytpe0I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/9iE7C0l15JY/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-02+at+2.43.46+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/05/shortcomings-is-number-one-in-gay.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-7316961263135987425Sat, 02 Apr 2011 22:17:00 +00002011-04-02T15:17:59.909-07:00Andrew&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Andrew was sitting in his bedroom, stunned, practically paralyzed with fear, when he heard his father’s truck pull into the driveway.&nbsp; He heard the back door creak open and shut...and then the chair slide along the kitchen floor as keys jangled against the table.&nbsp; He could hear his mother’s quivering voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Of course, he knew exactly what she was saying.&nbsp; She was telling his father that she had walked in on Andrew with his best friend Clem that afternoon.&nbsp; She was no doubt sobbing and sniveling as she recounted how she’d dropped the laundry basket when she stepped in to find Andrew with his mouth full, sitting on his bed facing Clem, whose pants were around his ankles and whose hand was wrapped around the back of Andrew’s neck.&nbsp; She was probably managing to somehow make the whole thing about her, asking what she had done for God to punish her so, going on about how hard the whole ordeal had been for her and how she’d never be able to forget the image that had been burned into her mind...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then...the kitchen went silent.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Andrew said a prayer, turned around and watched his bedroom door, waiting breathlessly for whatever calamity was to come.&nbsp; But nothing came.&nbsp; He sat there staring at the door, his red hair soaked brown with sweat, for forty-five minutes.&nbsp; No one ever came in.&nbsp; He finally stepped outside his room, the floor creaking beneath his bare feet and walked toward the top of the stair case to try to hear what was going on in the kitchen.&nbsp; Nothing.&nbsp; Silence...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; So he went back into his room, lay in bed facing the wall, his tongue running back and forth against the back of his unbrushed teeth and eventually, he fell asleep.<br /><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He woke up the next morning, showered, ate breakfast and made his way to school alone.&nbsp; The house was as eerily silent as it had been the night before.&nbsp; On any other day, while he was getting dressed, he would hear his father’s work boots clomping down the stairs, the back door slamming shut and the truck backing out of the driveway.&nbsp; Normally, when he’d go downstairs five minutes later to eat, he would find his mother in the kitchen watching something on the 700 Club, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette at the table.&nbsp; But on that day, neither parent was seen or heard.&nbsp; Andrew ate quickly and left twenty minutes early so he could walk to school and get there before first period.&nbsp; He couldn’t bear waiting around for his mother to offer him a ride through her gritted teeth of self-righteous disgust.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But as he walked down the street, the morning sun shining in his bright blue eyes and the crisp Ohio air filling his lungs, he was warmed with a sense that everything was going to be all right.&nbsp; His mother was most likely too racked with Christian guilt and self-pity to go public with the information.&nbsp; And his father obviously just didn’t want to talk about it at all.&nbsp; Dad hadn’t wanted to talk about much of anything for a long time...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; For years, Andrew’s father used to drag him out to baseball fields and into batting cages.&nbsp; Every summer would begin with everyone in the house hoping against hope that Andrew had grown out of his ‘awkward phase’ and that he would finally take to the sport that for some reason meant everything to his dad.&nbsp; But they’d all stopped hoping by the time Andrew began high school.&nbsp; He knew that his father had given up on him a long time ago...&nbsp; As it turned out, that very apathy might have been Andrew’s saving grace.&nbsp; His father may have already been too bored with being disappointed to even bother addressing the whole blow job in the bedroom fiasco.&nbsp; Maybe it would all just blow over.&nbsp; Ha!&nbsp; Blow...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Andrew knew that he and Clem would just have to get through the next four months and then they would both be at University of Chicago.&nbsp; That’s when their real life together would finally begin...&nbsp; They’d be able to stay up late to watch their favorite Madeline Kahn movies together in bed.&nbsp; (Andrew was obsessed with “Clue” while Clem couldn’t get enough of her Mel Brooks stuff.)&nbsp; They could play their R&amp;B divas loud and proud--Jennifer Hudson, Mary J. Blige and Mariah Carey, just to start--without any sideways glares from their CMT-fixated kinsmen.&nbsp; And they would get to hold hands and kiss each other on the lips whenever they wanted, which would be all the time.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Andrew had already started having recurring dreams of the two of them waking up in the same big bed with the sun shining in through the giant bay windows of their modest future apartment.&nbsp; Hardwood floors and homemade curtains.&nbsp; Walking distance from the famous Halsted Street in Boys Town.&nbsp; Just thinking about how simple and genuine and sweet it would be left him all choked up ...<br /><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Clem didn’t show up at school that morning and his cell phone kept going straight to voicemail.&nbsp; By the time lunch rolled around, Andrew was sick to his stomach with worry.&nbsp; He skipped fifth and sixth period to walk to Clem’s house and make sure everything was okay.&nbsp; He decided on the way to stop at home to drop off his book bag and brush his teeth.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When he turned the corner on to his street, he saw them right away.&nbsp; There were trash bags lined up along the sidewalk outside his front gate.&nbsp; As he got closer, he saw that the bags were filled with his clothes and all his things.&nbsp; His Spelling Bee trophy from fourth grade had been broken and the bottom half was poking out of a plastic bag.&nbsp; His personalized cover to his favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird, was on the ground next to the bags but the book itself was nowhere to be found.&nbsp; There was a chain with a deadbolt lock around the entrance to the front gate.&nbsp; He dropped his book bag on the sidewalk and hopped over the fence.&nbsp; When he got to the front door, he found his key didn’t fit in the lock.&nbsp; He walked around to the back door, his heart racing, terrified, and found the same thing.&nbsp; He banged on the door, hoping to see or hear his mother stirring inside.&nbsp; Nothing.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He banged and banged on the door until the flat side of his fist was red and raw, then he slid down the back door, scratching his face against the peeling paint, his body shaking uncontrollably.&nbsp; When he finally collapsed into a pile of quivering limbs on the back step, he began sobbing.&nbsp; He cried until his body went into convulsions because he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.&nbsp; Then he just whimpered and choked because his eyes had dried out...<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When the sun went down, he was still laying on that back step.&nbsp; Nobody came home.&nbsp; Nobody opened the door.&nbsp; Nobody called.&nbsp; He went to dial Clem again and got a recording that the phone he was using was no longer in service.&nbsp; It was really happening.&nbsp; His parents were completely cutting off their only child because he was in love with another boy.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He got up, wiped his face and walked unsteadily back toward the front gate.&nbsp; Mrs. Acton, the old lady next door, was watching him from her front porch, smoking a cigarette, shaking her head and sucking her teeth.&nbsp; She knows...&nbsp; He hopped over the fence and rifled through the trash bags for a jacket and as many clothes as he could fit into his book bag.&nbsp; Then he walked to Clem’s house.<br /><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Clem’s father answered the door, reeking of whiskey and cigarettes, and stood in the doorway with so much revulsion in his eyes that Andrew was honestly scared for his life.&nbsp; He could feel all the muscles around his knees turn to jelly...&nbsp; “Clem don’t want nothin’ to do with you.&nbsp; Now don’t be callin’ and don’t be tryin’ to talk to him and you stay the fuck away from him.”&nbsp; Then he slammed the door in Andrew’s face.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Andrew stood there on the front porch, his eyes glazing over as locks and bolts were fastened on the other side of the door.&nbsp;&nbsp; This isn’t happening.&nbsp; This is not happening.&nbsp; When he finally walked away from the house, he saw Clem looking down from an upstairs window.&nbsp; His cherubic face was lifeless and detached and a purple bruise above his left eye was barely visible behind the shadow of the lace curtain.&nbsp; Clem shook his head, ‘No’ just before he let the curtain fall in front of his face and he backed away from the window.&nbsp; Andrew understood.&nbsp; It was all over.&nbsp; Nothing could be done.<br /><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When Andrew finally fell asleep on a bus station bench that night, he dreamt of the same future apartment with hardwood floors and homemade curtains.&nbsp; But instead of Clem at the kitchen table, it was his mother, chain smoking, sucking her teeth, glaring back at him with her purple, bruised eye.&nbsp; Sadly, her clear contempt felt absolutely normal to him. <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; How long had he known that his parents didn’t like him very much?&nbsp; How long had he been accustomed to them holding him at arm’s length?&nbsp; How long had they been walking around him rather than looking at him and addressing him directly?&nbsp; How long had they been merely tolerating his existence in their house?&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; They seemed to have recognized something untoward in him before even he had managed to comprehend what is was that made him different.&nbsp; By the time he had been able to qualify his attraction to other boys as something they probably wouldn’t approve of, their hearts had already hardened.&nbsp; He couldn’t even remember a time when the three of them had been openly affectionate.&nbsp; His parents didn’t even seem to like each other very much...&nbsp; And it was that lack of tenderness, that emotional indifference that had made him so eager to start his new life in Chicago with Clem.&nbsp; As normal as his loveless home-life had become, he never stopped believing that there was more in store for him.&nbsp; He knew that the God he loved and honored wouldn’t let him down.<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then his entire world shattered.&nbsp; A nightmare come to life...<br /><br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The next morning, he paid forty-five of his last four-hundred and twenty dollars for a bus ticket to Chicago.&nbsp; As he watched Ohio’s flat green landscape drift past from his window seat, he said one last prayer for his parents.&nbsp; He asked God to forgive them and watch over them, because he knew he would never see them again.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And he closed his eyes and imagined Clem walking into their future apartment... His curly blond hair glowing like a halo and his angelic face smiling, strong and safe.&nbsp; Love would prevail.&nbsp; Because it had to.http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/04/andrew.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1316112783098180601.post-860592641231166804Mon, 28 Mar 2011 21:11:00 +00002011-03-28T14:12:53.629-07:00Shortcomings by Darryl Stephens<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.lulu.com/commerce/index.php?fBuyContent=10364281" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OZ6_82DHzRc/TZD5beZlmzI/AAAAAAAAAHM/04hE4LD2Qww/s1600/320.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click to Purchase</td></tr></tbody></table>http://darrylstephens.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (DS Blog)4